Word to Come: Divine Appointment
by The Noble French Fry
Summary: A mysterious woman shows up to see the Caldwells... And she's got a lot of BIG news. [ONESHOT] I attempted to answer how the Word to Come would come about... Read and find out!


**Disclaimer: I don't own Firebird or any of its elements**

**Rating: PG**

**Reason: a tiny bit of suggestive content**

**Setting: Months after the end of _Crown of Fire_, Angelo Palace, Citangelo, Netaia.**

**Description: A mysterious woman shows up to see the Caldwells... And she's got a lot of BIG news.**

**A/N: Ok, sorry if some things are a little off... It's been a few months since I last read any of the Firebird books... This isn't that great of a story anyway... I just always wondered about how the Word to Come would come to Firebird's world, and attempted to answer that with this fic, including an original character... Anyway, enjoy!

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**Divine Appointment**

The Citangelo morning had dawned several hours earlier, bright and beautiful. The palace window flaunted its perfect view, not hampered in the least by the extra-thick, secure glasteel.

The Caldwell family was as happy and whole as the bright morning, moving around in their suite in the Angelo family palace. Firebird was clutching her squirmy little imp Kinnor to her shoulder and marveling at how odd it was to be back in the palace full-time—as she hadn't been since she was a wastling child—again when the door chimed.

Brennen appeared with Kiel and Firebird threw her bond-mate a questioning glance.

He just shrugged.

So no one was expecting a visitor…

"What is it?" Firebird asked through the door's answering mechanism.

"An important visitor for you, Your Highness," answered a flat-voiced palace guard. "She came with an authentic letter from Regional Command at Tallis."

Frowning, Firebird palmed the lock and the door slid open.

Two red-liveried palace guards stood there, then simultaneously parted to reveal the true visitor.

She was a tall and remarkably thin woman—like a needle!—with long, sharp features. That wasn't the half of it. Her hair was jet black and pulled back tightly into a sheer golden headpiece adorned by a string of huge rubies. The largest of the rubies—probably a full six centimeters in diameter—sat right between the woman's brilliant green eyes. Her posture was stiff and taut, causing the brilliant red and gold dress to sit just as stiffly and tautly on her body until it flared off at the stomach.

Everything about her radiated power and nobility…

And she stood with a face that could have been chiseled from permacrete, silent.

"Forgive me," Firebird said after a moment with the feeling she ought to know this woman. "But I don't know your name."

The woman smiled tightly with dark-tinted lips. "Forgive _me_, Your Highness. My name is Ky-Wynn Ekiee Kai-Isteea-Calldwell-Bell-Renno-Angelo."

Firebird had lost track of the name after "Wynn" as she was startled by the woman calling her "Highness," but she did catch Angelo and Caldwell. And her head snapped up with surprised eyes to the Visitor.

"Did you say—?" Firebird and Brenn chorused.

The mysterious woman's mouth quirked into a half-smile. "Well, milady and good sir, I _am _here to explain." Her keen eyes touched on the guards to either side. "However, if you do not mind, my business… well, 'tis _sensitive_."

"Yes, of course." Firebird dismissed the guards with a flick of her hand, trusting they'd disarmed the Visitor.

After the scarlet-uniformed men moved away, the Visitor stepped in, glancing at the infants resting on Brennen and Firebird's respective shoulders. Her dark delicate brows rose.

"Milady, and sir, I am here to present serious materials that require your full attention." She nodded to the babies. "I would suggest no… distractions."

"Ah, of course," Firebird said, rubbing her Kinnor's back as he drifted into sleep. "It's their naptime anyway."

She was quick to put her boys—almost ten months old!—into their cribs and catch a quick word with Brennen in the nursery.

"Odd woman," she muttered.

"Very odd," Brenn agreed.

"Can you get any Sentinel readings from her?"

For a brief second, Brenn's brows came together in concentration, then he frowned. Firebird could sense his unease, and feel it on her pair-bond. "She's … shielded. Tightly."

"Shielded?" Firebird exclaimed. "You mean she's—"

"She's not a Sentinel," Brennen answered. "And I don't think she's Shuhr either."

Firebird's frown deepened. "Well, we'll just have to ask her then."

Brennen nodded, and put on an impassive face as he walked into the parlor, side-by-side with Firebird.

The Visitor was still standing not far from the closed doorway, stiffly with hands clasped behind her back like a military leader. She only turned her head slightly.

"Please, sit," Firebird said, indicating the couch. "And make yourself comfortable."

After nodding her head slightly, the Visitor obliged, moving stiffly towards the couch, then just as stiffly sitting down. Brenn took a place on an opposing sofa.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Firebird asked, already moving towards the food prep. "This is the Angelo palace. We have everything from the finest wines down to simple cruinn."

The Visitor smiled tightly. "No wine, thank you. Your local 'cruinn' is fine."

Firebird frowned, thinking that this high-class woman would want more, but punched up the sequence for three glass of cruinn just the same.

"So, your name again?" prompted Brennen.

"Well, I first wish to tell you where I am from," the Visitor said.

As soon as the food prep station trilled ready, Firebird scooped up the glasses and handed them out, taking a seat herself beside Brenn. She noticed with only mild interest that now that the Visitor was sitting, where her dress flared above the stomach was obviously meant to hide her swollen pregnant belly.

"My world is called Quillk and it is far below the galactic plane," the Visitor said.

Firebird and Brennen exchanged frowns. "Never heard of it."

The woman smiled tightly. "Of course not. It's far outside of the galactic plane, as I said, and we haven't been in touch with your Federacy very often. In fact, we have a… surprise… that the Federacy wishes us to keep to ourselves. So we have been sort of a state secret."

Brennen and Firebird nodded understanding.

"But Regional Command has given me permission to reveal it to you, as General Caldwell is one of the reigning Master Sentinels. And your names and ranks were provided to me in a briefing." She paused and Firebird felt her anticipation pique. "Our world is odd. We are not the average race of humans, either. However, we have no trace of alien blood in us."

She paused again, apparently thinking. "But we have—as you General Caldwell, have already observed and informed Princess Firebird—some Ehretan genes."

Brennen nodded. "Yes, I felt that."

"A group of religious Ehretans mistakenly left behind were shepherded out of danger by another holy man like your Mattah, whom we call Poyylan, and he wound up on Quillk. Because Poyllan was another holy man, we share your religion as well. In case you did not notice, General, our genes… they are _strong_ genes. I myself have already undergone ES scale testing by a few of your fellow Sentinels, and they have put me as an 'ES 112' I believe."

Firebird felt her jaw drop. "But isn't the scale only to one-hundred?"

The Visitor nodded. "'Tis, milady. As I said, our Ehretan genes are strong, and they surpass those of your Sentinels."

With shock still hovering over her shoulder, Firebird nodded. "Now, please continue to your name."

She offered a wane smile. "Are you sure you can keep up this time, Your Highness? My full name and title is… 'Her Royal Grace Crown Princess Ky-Wynn Ekiee Bethia Agosto Kai-Isteea-Calldwell-Bell-Renno-Angelo of Quillk.' And the long name is customary of my part of the royal family."

Firebird was quick to nod and half-bow to the lady, recognizing that while she was from off-world, proper protocol dictated she was in every way Firebird's superior. Brennen was quick to follow suit.

The Crown Princess smiled. "You don't have to do that. I know that you are a princess yourself, milady. And I am on your world."

"But, Your Grace, you are my superior," Firebird returned. "I am not to receive the crown of Netaia, while you will receive the crown of… Quillk."

"Milady, I see it fit to explain something," the Crown Princess said. "On my world, the royal family is large. It always has been. And we are not a monarchy, as you may have expected. We are, in fact, an odd democracy. The people choose their next King or Queen from our family. We do not automatically ascend to the throne."

Both Caldwells nodded.

"So you see, Your Highness, I am not quite your 'superior,' so much as your equal."

"You don't have to call me 'Highness' either, Your Grace," Firebird informed her.

"Then I insist you not call me 'Your Grace,'" the Crown Princess returned. "Tis my title, yes, but you may call me Kwe-bak-ic-bra. 'Tis also a mouthful, but they are my initials. If you wish to shorten it, milady, call me Kwe, or Ekiee, as tis not completely informal."

"And call me Firebird." Firebird's mind wandered back to the woman's long name. "And I hope you realize that my maiden name was Angelo, as it seems your name is."

"Allow me to explain," said 'Ekiee.' "You see, as I said that my world's monarch is elected, for the past five generations, it has been a queen elected. Now naturally, a woman loses her last name for her husband's, but if we did that, we would have lost the Angelo name years ago. So our predecessors devised a new system for that. We keep Angelo on the end of our name, but add the man's name before the Angelo. The children also receive the compounded name. And as the years progressed and more queens were elected, the daughters'—and really, the sons'—names grew longer and longer."

"So there were Angelos and Caldwells in your family line?" Brennen asked.

"Yes, there were," the Visitor answered. "Firebird, your ancestor Prince Advocin is known to you to have died by being executed for marrying outside the Powers' decree, yes?"

"Yes…" Firebird could feel the anticipation building…

"He did not die, Firebird. He ran away—with his wife, and daughter. And he found Quillk by chance alone—or perhaps by the Holy One's hand—and began ruling it. So I too carry Casvah genes."

Firebird's eyes went wide and she could feel cold dread gripping her heart. "You mean…?"

"Yes, my family has mutated epsilon carrier waves."

Firebird and Brennen exchanged worried glances. They'd thought that with Firebird's mutated carrier being destroyed, they'd finally rid the Federacy of the fusion problem… And then a woman shows up on their doorstep, proclaiming her entire family had that problem…

"Do not fear. Not many know that we have this… problem."

"Good," Firebird said firmly.

"And now I wish to explain the Caldwell in my line." She paused thoughtfully. "General, your great-great uncles were thought to be killed by those awful Shiraks, yes?"

"Yes…" Brenn admonished.

"One of them was kidnapped with the intent of becoming a lab-rat of sorts for the Shuhr," said Ekiee. "And when Shirak's ship malfunctioned and forced him out to Quillk, he lost the child. Finally, he wound up adopted by the royal family." She paused again, and a pained expression appeared for a moment on her face. "So, you see, I am as much Carabohd as you are, General. It is simply not my only surname."

Firebird could feel her bond-mate's joy and surprise—and anxiety—at finding out that he had relatives previously unheard of… And then his eyes went wide as he realized what this could mean.

"Yes, Brother, I am heir to the prophecies as you are. And the Holy One has spoken to me already concerning the Word to Come. In less than a year, He will be among us."

Brenn and Firebird exchanged bewildered glances. After two minutes, Brenn was the first to find his voice.

"My sons? Which of them is it?"

Ekiee shook her head. "Tis neither of your sons, Brother." Rather consciously, she folded her hands over a swollen belly.

Brennen still didn't get it. "My cruelly lab-created daughter?" he asked.

"No, I am afraid you personally have no part in the Word," Ekiee said sympathetically. "You have been a dear servant to the One, but He has given another the responsibility of His Son, the Word who is still to Come." She shook her head. "Tis none of your offspring, Brother, alas, tis _mine_."

Brennen frowned, then finally realized why the woman held her hands over her swelling stomach the way she did. He stammered about, searching for words, as did Firebird.

"I carry in me a Holy Son," Ekiee said, looking down to her stomach. "But the true wonder of it is that I am a virgin mother."

"_He_—the Son—was implanted?" Firebird asked, gesturing to her stomach.

"No, he grows in me without my aid, nor that of a scientist."

"So He is an utterly Holy Child," Brennen proclaimed.

Ekiee nodded. "That He is. And may He deliver us all."

**THE END...**

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